The Strangeness of You and All That Will Follow
by Slash4Femme
Summary: Dr. Owen Harper's life just got stranger. If that was at all possible.
1. random events at punk rock concerts

_This is a piece of fanfiction based on_ Torchwood_. The pairing in this story is Ianto/Owen. I purposefully made it hard to tell when this story take place because I'm not sure yet when I want it to have taken place. _

_Chapter Notes: I based part of what Ianto does on his time off one the part of the episode Fragments which is one of the only times we see him out of a suit._

_ "To me, you're strange and you're beautiful/You'd be so perfect with me. . . " - Aqualung_

I.

You could say a lot of things about Dr. Owen Harper's life, but one thing you could never say was that it was normal. Strange, crazy, unbelievable, and more than a little fucked up, but never normal. He could remember a time when it had been. When the strangest thing he could foresee would have been him not starting his own practice. That was before things had gotten very, very strange. Back then he had a good job, a nice flat, a beautiful girlfriend. Now all that was left was the flat, not even in the right city, and strangeness had pretty much become his way of life. He thought nothing could surprise him. Alien autopsies, chasing weevils through sewers, getting totally covered in alien goop, and toting around heavy weaponry, that was his life now, and nothing could faze him. Right up until the night when he learned despite everything he'd seen, he'd yet to encounter true strangeness.

He was drunk, as usual, and she was beautiful, or that might have just been the beer talking. Either way when she said he could come to this concert he said yes. Punk rock wasn't really his thing, but he sensed the possibility of getting shagged. It was dark in the club, unbelievably loud and crowded. People in lots of black leather, smashed up close to each other, which was something Owen normally wouldn't have had a problem with. He did have a problem though with being separated from the lovely lady in question, which happened almost immediately upon them entering the building. As he fought his way through the crowd Owen began to wonder what exactly he was doing there and why he hadn't done the sensible thing and gone home to bed. After all he had work in the morning. The crowd seemed to be pulsing along with the ear shattering base line, which made the mass of bodies move in all the wrong ways for Owen to get through. On top of that Owen was not a particularly big man, short, slight, and by the second time someone shoved him he'd also developed a very bad mood. Someone shoved him again, and this time he wasn't quick enough to recover. As he went down he wondered vaguely how he was going to explain the bruises to Tosh in the morning.

Someone grabbed him before he actually hit the floor, and hoisted him up. The crowd moved again crushing him against his savior who appeared to be male with an apparently very nice feeling chest. Owen looked up and his mind completely ceased functioning. Ianto Jones stood staring back at him looking every bit as shocked as Owen felt. Owen's mind made a feeble attempt to grasp what was happening. That this was Ianto Jones. Ianto who picked up after them, Ianto who compulsively organized anything that wasn't nailed down, who brewed coffee that not only tasted like God's gift to human kind but also could melt holes in the sidewalk. Ianto Jones, who made lists in his sleep, and seemed to live for keeping things tidy and making Jack happy. That Ianto, who was now standing the middle of a punk rock concert dressed in tight black jeans, beat-up black t-shirt with some kind of band logo, black studded leather belt and matching cuffs, and black leather jacket, still holding Owen pressed against his chest. Owen's brain simply refused to grasp it and shut down again. Ianto's face had totally drained of color, and although Owen couldn't hear a damned thing over the music he saw Ianto mouth his name.

The next moment Ianto had let go of Owen, shoving him almost violently way. Owen staggered but didn't fall and Ianto's hand clamped around his wrist, so tightly he was pretty sure it would leave bruises. Ianto began hauling him through the crowd, and Owen dazedly wondered when Ianto had gotten so strong. Then they where outside. The cool air and deafening silence hitting him as they stepped of the club.

"What the hell where you doing?"

Ianto's voice was quiet, calm as ever, but Owen didn't miss the suppressed anger. Not that Owen minded, actually he found it deeply soothing. Ianto being annoyed with him was so very normal.

"There was this girl . . ."

Owen belatedly realized he'd left her on her own, then shrugged it off. This was far more interesting then adding another conquest to his list.

"Didn't expect to run into you though."

Ianto pinched the bridge of his nose and sigh. The small gesture was so much like the Ianto Owen knew that it made him feel suddenly overwhelmingly happy. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground.

"Owen, go home."

Ianto was using his practical voice, the one that he used while explaining to Jack why Jack was no long allowed to use the stable gun. Owen's eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Because you're drunk, and if you go back in there someone's going to end up dead, possibly you, possibly someone else, and I really don't want to bail you sorry arse out of jail on my night off."

Ianto was on his celphone, as he spoke, calling a cab. When it pulled up he ushered Owen into it and than to Owen's confusion got in himself. The streetlight wasn't great but it was better then inside the club. Owen found himself staring at some sort of silver chain Ianto was wearing around his neck as Ianto gave clipped instructions the to cabby. They spent the whole trip in silence; Ianto didn't even look at Owen until they pulled up outside of Owen's flat. Owen wondered briefly how Ianto had known where his flat was, and then Ianto was hauling him out of the back and inside. Outside of his flat, Ianto unceremoniously let go of Owen's arm and turned heading back the way they had come.

"Ianto"

Ianto stopped and termed around facing Owen, and Owen once more tried to take it all in; the boots, the jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket.

"Thanks."

Ianto shrugged ever so slightly

"No problem. Just don't make a habit of it."

And then he was gone.


	2. concerning coffee, glasses, and gloves

_Chapter Notes: I based the fact that Owen wears glasses on the episode Adam. He wore glasses then but not in the other episodes so I inferred that he actually does need glasses but wears contacts most of the time so he doesn't look like a geek (good luck with that Owen). Finally I blame all knitting ideas on the Torchwood Ravelry group. None of them where mine I swear!(yeah right). _

II.

Owen didn't know what to do with this newfound side of Ianto, or the images that kept playing through his mind. So he did the only thing he could think of and avoided Ianto. Ianto didn't seem to mind and pretty much avoided him too. At least this was Owen's take on the situation.

It was one of those late nights Owen hated. No matter how hard he worked in autopsy there seemed to be more work that still had to be done, and he'd been sitting there compiling specimen data into the computer for hours. Finally he wandered out into the hub and headed towards the food, and coffee area. Gwen, the lucky bastard that she was, had gone home. Jack was no where to be seen, and Tosh was a sleep on the couch surrounded by a sea of files, her laptop still open on the table in front of her. Owen paused, on his way by, to take the blanket they kept folded across the back of the couch and cover Tosh with it. He tucked the blanket around her being careful not to wake her and straightened, glancing up in time to see Ianto standing by the coffee maker watching him. Ianto's face as ever gave nothing away and Owen sighed he was way too tired to continue playing cat and mouse with Ianto, besides he really need the coffee.

He pushed by Ianto without making eye contact and pored himself a cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter before sighing tiredly and taking his reading glasses off to wipe, what might have been, mucous off them. Then realized the only think he had was his lab coat which was even dirtier then the glasses. He swore silently, cursing himself for forgetting his contacts at home for about the twentieth time that day. Finally he just put the glasses back on, and resigned himself to feeling like a total geek in front of Ianto. Ianto moved from where he had been leaning against the railing, back to the rest of the hub, across to the coffee machine next to Owen and began silently refilling it. Owen sipped his coffee and Ianto finished wiped his hands off carefully on a dish clothe then reached into on the pockets of his dress coat and laid a small bundle down next to Owen's elbow.

"It's for you."

He said without meeting Owen's eyes. Owen set his coffee down then picked the items up and examined them. It termed out to be a pair of fingerless gloves carefully knitted out of dark grey wool with a hint of purple in it. Each glove had most of thumb, short cuffs and a large cable down the back. Owen looked up at Ianto who still wasn't meeting his eyes.

"Why?"

Ianto met his eyes then turns so he too was leaning against the counter and folded his arms across his chest.

"Because you never make anything for yourself. You always give it away."

Owen looked up sharply at that. Back in the bad old days they had all knit, to pass the time between alien invasion and finding someone decent to shag. Tosh had even organized a Torchwood knitting group sort of thing that had met exactly once for about five minutes before something had gotten blown up. So technically Ianto knew Owen knit. Owen had originally learned from his great aunt. As a child, he had spent a lot of time at her house, using it as a sanctuary from his parents constant screaming. What he didn't know was how Ianto had figured out he still knit and who he knit for. Although he'd rather have had his arm gnawed off by weevils then admit it, Owen associated knitting with safety, with being happy. So he knit when he was tired, or sad, or depressed. When the death he'd seen out weighed the lives he'd saved. He knit for the hospitals in London where he used to work, for the children he was longer there to save, but it didn't make him feel any less guilty. He had no idea how Ianto had found out.

He picked up the gloves and turned them over in his hands. They where really quite nice, he wondered briefly why Ianto had to be so annoyingly good at everything he did. He looked back at Ianto who'd been watching him quietly.

"Yeah I'm such a saint. Selfless that's me."

He put the gloves down on the counter and picked back up his coffee.

"Look just because I tucked Tosh in back there, doesn't mean we all get to play Owen's such a big softy. I think if you look closely you'll find I'm just as much of a prat as I always am."

He let a sardonic smile touch his lips.

"Sorry to disappoint."

He picked back up the gloves and coffee, and head back toward the hub and more alien parts to catalog. At the stairs he paused and looking back over his shoulder at Ianto.

"Oh and thanks by the way. The thought, and all that rubbish."

Then Ianto moved. Pushing himself way form the counter he closed the distance between them in several long strides. Before Owen could react Ianto had plucked Owen's glasses off his nose and was cleaning them off with a cotton handkerchief Ianto had pulled out his pocket. Owen inhaled to say something, God only knew what, and Ianto finished, reached out and placed the glasses gently back on Owen's nose.

They just stood there for a split second. Then the coffee cup hit the floor and Owen found himself wrapped around Ianto kissing the living daylights out him. They went on kissing for what felt like forever, all tongues and teeth and need. At some point Ianto had managed to get both fists twisted in the front of Owen's lab coat and used it along with his greater height to swing Owen around and walk them backwards until Owen felt his back hit the counter. Owen really didn't cared, not with the way Ianto was kissing him. Evidently this was yet another area in which Ianto excelled. Not that Owen was half bad at it himself. He managed to work his hands into Ianto's jacket, running his palms up Ianto's back and then around to his chest, with their lips still firmly locked together. Then without warning Ianto was letting go of his lab coat and stepping back. Owen gasped slightly and tried to get his brain to work again. Ianto was straightening his jacket looking at Owen with something almost like anger in his eyes.

"You're right."

Ianto's voice was low and Owen couldn't tell whether it was anger or sadness that lay just behind the evenness.

"You're still a prat."

Then, again without warning, he stepped forward and took Owen's face between his hands and kissed him. This kiss was brief, light, and almost gentle, but Owen didn't have time to reciprocate before Ianto was letting him go again, moving to the staircase and then down into the hub. Owen just stood there still leaning against the counter, lab coat and glasses askew. Finally he moved, cleaning up the coffee and broken cup. Than picked up the gloves, stuffing them into his lab coat, and heading back down to autopsy. When he was safely at his desk in autopsy surrounded by disemboweled aliens than he allowed his head to fall into his hand. Even there he could still feel Ianto's lips against his own, the way Ianto's hands had felt on his face. He groaned softly. Yes, there was no doubt about it; he was in deep, deep, trouble.


	3. false hopes and alien slime

III.

For the next few days Owen was constantly on the defense. He was cool, he was collected, and he was in no way falling for Ianto. He totally ignored Ianto, and was in a constantly foul mood and even more horrible then usual to anyone who came anywhere close. He spent most of his time in autopsy, and most people steered well clear of him. When he almost reduced Tosh to tears for the second time in the same day, after Gwen had already threatened to kill him first, Jack hauled Owen into his office and told him that he either had to get over himself, or go home. Owen snarled something appropriately lethal and stormed out of the office and out of the hub to his car. He got very, very drunk and didn't bother coming into work the next day.

When he did finally drag himself to work he discovered nothing had changed, life still went on and the world still needed saving. So he threw himself back into work and did he's very best not to think about the way it felt to kiss Ianto every time Ianto walked into the room. They fought aliens, saved aliens, saved the world. Owen did a lot of running, shooting and far; far more paperwork then he felt was reasonable. He set Tosh's wrist, patched up Gwen a couple times and performed countless autopsies. Generally speaking life in Torchwood moved on.

It had been a particularly hideous day. They had chased down a giant insect like thing that had breathed fire and put up one hell of a fight before finally exploding. Most of the team were suffering from burns and everyone was completely covered in sticky mucous-like slime. Then Jack had insisted they gather up what was left of the thing and bring it back to autopsy. By the time Owen left to go home he was sporting a particularly nasty burn on his arm, what felt like the beginning of really killer headache and was in desperate need of a shower. As he left the hub and headed for his car the only thing on his mind was getting to his flat, washing and falling into bed. He rounded the corner moving towards where he had parked his car and stopped short when he saw who was already there, leaning against it. Ianto pushed himself away for Owen's car and took a few steps forward. He must have changed, Owen though distractedly, because he was no longer wearing the same suit he had been wearing when he was sprayed by alien slime.

"I was thinking maybe we could go get a drink."

Owen just stared at him. Ianto seemed vaguely uncomfortable.

"You know, together."

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

If he had been watching this instead of taking part Owen knew he would be finding it hilariously funny. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Alright, what's happened? Run out of options have you? What was I? Bottom of the list."

Ianto opened his mouth and Owen plowed straight over him.

"Because last time I checked you weren't interested. In fact last thing I can remember is you walking away from me after calling me a prat."

He's voice was getting louder by the minute and he knew he was only seconds way from screaming.  
"And for you're information I am not a pity shag, or a rebound shag. So you can go and find someone else if you're that desperate."

Ianto actually raised one eyebrow at that, and Owen balled his hands up into fists inside his jacket pockets to keep himself from hitting Ianto.

"Besides I thought there was Jack."

Ianto closed his eyes for a moment, then took a very deep, careful breath.

" The thing about me and Jack . . . "

Ianto braided his finger together in front of him then stared down at them for a moment.

"I can't just keep being left behind. I need stability."

Owen actually laughed.

"And you think you'll get that from me. Boy you're even more messed up then Tosh."

He brushed by Ianto and started again towards his car.

"Owen."

The inflection Ianto put into his name made Owen stop dead and his heart start beating so fast that for a moment he wondered whether he was actually going to have a heart attach. I cannot fall in love with him, he thought. I cannot do that, to either one of us. He turned and looked back to where Ianto still stood a rather pensive look on his face.

"Just one drink?"

Ianto ask and Owen nodded slowly and unlocked his car.


	4. and what will follow

_Sound Track: 'Strange & Beautiful' by Drew Sarich_

IV.

Ianto is too beautiful. Too complicated and untouchable. Too close to something Owen might be able to understand, and God, Owen knew he wasn't making sense. Ianto's was asleep, naked and in Owen's bed. Owen was lying next to him watching him sleep; he'd been awake for a couple minutes now just watching Ianto. Ianto's wasn't the first man Owen had ever slept with not by a long shot. He was also nowhere close to the first friend Owen had gone out for drinks with and ended up shagging. He wasn't even the first co-worked Owen had ever slept with. This time was different though, because this time it was Ianto, and Owen knew he wasn't going be able to go to work tomorrow like nothing had happened. He sighed softly and got up putting on pair of pajama bottoms and padding into the kitchen where he got himself a drink of water. He sipped it and thought about Ianto, thought about Jack, about Torchwood and the kind of work they did. He already knew this story didn't have a happy ending. There wasn't going to be declarations of undying love where they fell into each other's arms, cue the ending credits. No, this wasn't going to end well at all. Ianto appeared in the doorway wearing his boxers and one of Owen' t-shirts looking sleepy and rumpled and Owen's heart constricted painfully in his chest.

"Just getting some water."

He held up the glass as proof.

"Want some?"

Ianto nodded and Owen turned taking down a glass off the shelf and filling it with water. Ianto moved to stand behind Owen and wrapped his arms around Owen's waist. Owen's breath caught and he turned around facing Ianto. He loved the slight smile playing around the corners of Ianto's mouth. Loved the way Ianto looked in Owen's shirt, loved the fact he had to tilt his head up slightly to meet Ianto's eyes. Ianto kissed him and Owen wrapped his arms around Ianto neck and pressed his body as close as humanly possible. Ianto let his tongue sweep across Owen's teeth and Owen shuddered and lost all ability to think of anything except Ianto's body against his.

"Come back to bed?"

Ianto phrased it as a question, and Owen swallowed hard and nodded not letting go of Ianto. Owen finally reluctantly lets go and Ianto took his hand and led him back towards the bedroom. This is ridiculous Owen thought they didn't even get along. He could understand wanting to shag Ianto, Owen slept with people he didn't get along with all the time. The rest though, that was new and painful, and far, far too much like the way he used to feel, the way he swore he'd never let himself feel about anyone ever again.

They were in Torchwood, back at work, and Owen didn't know what he expected, certainly not this waiting not knowing what was going on. It's been days and Ianto hasn't come around or asked him out again, or even talked to him. Owen was doing his level best to convince himself he didn't care, it wasn't important, except that it was. It was almost the end of the day, and the girls have already packed it up early and left, Gwen saying something about having a dinner with some of Rhys' friends. After a long mental battle, Owen finally made up him mind that something needed to be done and went to find Ianto. Ianto was in the vault making some sort of list on a clipboard; Owen wasn't really interested in that.

"We need to talk."

Ianto looked up and Owen folded his arms across is chest.

"Ianto what the hell do you want from me? If all you wanted was a quick shag I would have appresated being told that up front, not being fed all that shit about stability, and so on."

"I didn't just want a quick shag."

Owen raked his fingers distractedly through his hair.

"Then what do you want, Ianto? What are you playing at here?"

Ianto opened his mouth and Owen interrupted.

"You know what? Forget it, this isn't going to work. I mean we don't even like each other."

He took a couple steps backwards as if intending to leave. Ianto looked like he'd actually been slapped.

"What gave you the idea I don't like you Owen?"

Owen laughed, a harsh sound and surprisingly loud in the vaulted room.

"Come on Ianto. We've never gotten along, you and I."

If anything Ianto was looking more and more unhappy, and Owen was beginning to think now would be a good time to leave, before he broke down and did something stupid.

"I thought it were different now."  
Ianto's voice was low. Owen shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. The tile work was very good quality, he wondered why he'd never noticed that before.

"Owen."

Owen jerked slightly and looked up Ianto had moved and was now standing far too close for comfort, or maybe not close enough. Owen shook his head.

"I can't do this."

He made to leave, this time for real, and Ianto's hand shot out grabbing him by the shoulder.

"Owen, please."

"Ianto we work together. The world could, very literally, end tomorrow. I'm a bastard, and your far too good . . ."

Ianto kissed him, and Owen stopped thinking. When Ianto drew back Owen realized he'd managed to wrap his arms around Ianto's waist.

"Try."

Ianto's voice was soft, and a little husky, which made Owen totally melt inside.

"I promise I'll make it work, I'll make this good, I'll . . . "

This time it was Owen's turn to kiss him, and this time he made it slow and thorough.

"Alright."

Owen said when they finally pulled apart, not even caring that his voice was shaking slightly.

"But you're paying for the first date."

Ianto only nodded and bent slightly to burry his face in the curve of Owen's neck. I'm in love Owen thought, dear God; I'm in love with him.

That night they went to the restaurant Ianto had picked out for them. Owen watched Ianto smile, and he moved his hands ever so slightly on the tabletop as he talked. As he listened, smiling at all the right times, and watching the light play off Ianto's dark hair, Owen made a silent promise to himself that he'd make it work. He had to he realized, he had no choice in the matter. Because he was going to be loving this man for the rest of his life. Dr. Owen Harper, in love with Ianto Jones until his dying day.


End file.
